


One (Mostly) Happy Ending, Some Assembly Required

by Leela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blindness, Community: hp_tarot, Disability, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Death Eater trials wind to an end, Harry's fading eyesight doesn't stop him from leaping when he thinks Severus is in danger. Just this once, he learns, his bad habit may just lead to something unexpected (and good) for both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One (Mostly) Happy Ending, Some Assembly Required

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the HP Tarot fest. Cards and interpretations used are in the End Notes.
> 
> Without my betas, Regan V, F Bowden, Iulia Linnea, and Jo, this story wouldn't be half of what it is (and I mean that literally)

Harry walked slowly down the hallway towards Courtroom Nine. He kept his hands in his pockets, the fingers of his right hand brushing the wand that he'd refused to give up, and discreetly hiking up his formal robe just enough to prevent the hem from flapping around his boots. Tripping over his own clothes didn't do much for his self-confidence. A smile curved his lips as he imagined the picture he made with the three Aurors hovering behind him. If Ron's description of the last time he'd done this was anything to go by, their hands were probably twitching. No one wanted to be the gormless twit who didn't move fast enough to prevent the Chosen... Boy Who... — what was the _Prophet_ calling him these days anyway? — Harry Potter from stumbling over something he couldn't see and smashing his face open.

Not that there would have been much to see as far as he could tell. He moved his head up and down, left and right, until he found an angle that let him see patches of what was in front of him — tilted down and turned a fraction to the right to take advantage of his as-yet-undamaged peripheral vision. The dark grey had to be the stone of the walls, ceiling and floor. Red was for the Aurors guarding the sequestered witnesses and defendants who had yet to go to trial. He didn't bother trying to find Ron's bright hair, since his friend had already gone into the courtroom to take his turn as a witness for the defence in Draco Malfoy's trial.

A sudden burst of sound, voices hushed and yet commanding had him twisting his head a little more to the left. Up ahead, a bright white space — must be a door — had opened in the darkness of the wall. More red-robed Aurors were coming out of a holding room, surrounding a figure swathed in deep black.

 _Severus_ , he thought and increased his speed just a little, ignoring the nervous fear that fluttered in his chest and the objections of his escorts. He had to get closer — if he was to stand a chance of seeing the man. And, oh, how he wished he could see more than jigsaw puzzle pieces. Touch his skin and finally discover if it really was as soft as he'd imagined. Run his fingers through the masses of straight, fine hair that always hung lankly because, he was convinced, Severus had as much interest in dealing with it as Harry had in taming his own hair.

When he was less than ten feet away and all he could see were sections of black in what felt like a sea of red, everything changed. The floor rocked slightly under his feet. The shout from behind him was unintelligible but clearly a warning. He was about to stop and turn around, to try and figure it all out, when the hair on his arms and on the nape of his neck stood on end.

 _Magic!_

And Severus was still standing there, in front of that room; wandless, like all the other witnesses in the Death Eater trials. Harry yelled at the Aurors to shield themselves and launched himself forward. Still a couple of feet away, the wave of dark magic began to crest behind him. He leapt towards Severus, using the contrast with the white of the open door as a guide, and grabbed for the heavy black robes. Forgetting that his depth perception was off, he miscalculated the distance. His momentum carried them tumbling into the holding room.

The door slammed shut behind them, locking them in.

~*~

They landed with an audible thump. Harry was twisted around and mostly on top of Severus. His nose was pressed into Severus' armpit. His left arm was trapped under Severus' back. His right knee felt as if it were bare inches from Severus' groin.

Severus shoved at him and snarled, "Do you mind?"

"Not really, no." Harry attempted to extricate his arm. Unfortunately Severus moved at the same time, grinding the bones of Harry's left wrist and hand between stone and shoulder blade. "Fuck," Harry groaned.

Severus halted his next attempt when they heard the tearing of cloth. "Don't. Move."

"You want to stay like this?" Harry was incredulous. It couldn't possibly be comfortable to be on the bottom of this heap. He tried to catch a glimpse of Severus' face, but their positions meant that all he could see was black, interspersed with the dull grey of nothingness. All he could feel was the scratchy wool, softer than he'd expected. All he could smell was the mustiness of old cloth and a sharp bitterness that must be Severus' own scent. He buried his face a little deeper into the rumpled robes.

"Imbecile," Severus hissed. "Just let me..." he put his arms around Harry's back and lifted up. "Arm out. Now!"

With Harry's arm free and Severus directing their movements, they were rolling apart seconds later. Harry stayed where he was, sitting on the floor, flexing the fingers of his left hand until the feeling returned. He wasn't going to move until he had _some_ idea of what was in this room and where it was.

He'd identified the legs of what he thought were a table and a few wooden chairs when Severus snapped, "For Merlin's sake, get up off the floor and get us out of here."

"Give me a minute."

"Unacceptable."

"That's unfortunate, isn't it?" Harry tilted his head in the direction of Severus' voice and located the other man. Black hair, black robes, white skin. No obstacles between them that Harry could see, which didn't mean there wasn't anything low and close to the floor. Rather than take a chance on falling flat on his face, he slid backwards until he was resting against the wall.

"Mr Potter. Mr Snape. Are you both all right in there?" The voice came from above the door.

"We're fine," Harry said, as Severus sneered, "Hardly."

"Erm... just a sec, yeah?"

A crackling noise was followed by some incomprehensible muttering, and then Arthur Weasley said, "Harry, Severus, try to relax. We'll get you out of there as soon as we can get back on that floor, but it could take some time. That floor will remain on lockdown, until the Aurors resolve the... um... situation."

"Situation? What are you bollocksing up out there, Arthur?" Severus asked in a silky, dangerous tone that went straight to Harry's cock.

Another pause, a few more odd noises, and then Arthur responded, "Nothing you need to worry about, Severus."

"How can I _not_ worry, when I do _not_ know what is happening?"

Arthur's sigh came across in a sizzle of sound. "I will try to get permission to give you more information. In the meantime, you're both perfectly safe in there thanks to Harry's quick thinking. Just sit tight and call out if you need anything. Parsons here will be monitoring your room, just in case."

The connection snapped and fizzled and then went silent.

"Arthur?" Severus called out. When there was no answer, he snorted.

The slam of a fist into the table made Harry flinch and wish that he'd thought before he leapt just this once. Staying where he was, he did his best to stay perfectly still, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible in a room where he hadn't been able to locate anything that would provide cover. Under the table did not count, when Severus appeared to be sitting at it.

That dark gaze felt heavy and demanding, when it was turned in his direction. Skin burning under the weight, Harry forced himself not to look up. He cradled his left wrist in his right hand and resisted the temptation to bring it close enough to examine the damage. Bruising only, he was pretty sure, from what he could feel.

"Harry," Severus added something to his voice that tried to drag Harry's head up, "would _you_ care to explain what is happening?"

"How should I know?"

"Perhaps because whatever it was caused you to dive-bomb me and almost break my ribs in your rush to return me to my temporary confinement."

"Umm... yeah, sorry about that. I should have..." Harry let his voice trail away, not having a clue what else he could have done under the circumstances.

"Apology accepted. Now, if you don't mind—" wool rustled and Harry knew Severus was making that dismissive gesture he used to change the subject from something that cut too close to the emotional bone "—I require an explanation for your latest episode of uncouth behaviour."

Grasping his wand but not taking it out of his pocket, Harry murmured a general Healing Charm that eased the ache in his wrist. "It wasn't so much that I knew _what_ was happening exactly. More like I knew _something_ was happening. If you get my meaning."

Severus' noncommittal noise had Harry trying to peek surreptitiously at him out of the corner of his eyes. Without turning his head so that he could look through his glasses, all he could see in his peripheral vision was a black and white blur. Then the blur moved. Wooden chair legs scraped against stone floor. Harry quickly focussed on his hand again, but that didn't prevent him from being aware of every footstep.

"Potter." Warm breath against Harry's cheek and then Severus' fingers were under Harry's chin, forcing him to look up.

Harry closed his eyes, wanting to see but not wanting to be seen in return. Definitely not wanting to reveal how much it hurt to hear the other man use his surname. He thought they'd moved beyond that in those months they'd spent in the infirmary after the last battle — Severus recovering; Harry helping Poppy with her patients as he hid from the Ministry and the reporters.

When Severus spoke again, his voice was gentler. "How bad is it? The _Prophet_ trumpeted the news that your eyes had received curse-damage when Rabastan and Rodolphus were captured but didn't give any useful details."

"None of your business. You made that clear when you turned me down and sent me on my merry way in sixth year, remember?" Harry tore himself out of Severus' grasp and tried to crawl away, almost sprawling flat on his face in his urgent need to avoid making a fool of himself in front of this man again. He kept going, fumbling his way with one hand on the floor and the other trailing along the wall, not stopping until he reached a chair. Moving carefully, he got to his feet and sat down, crossing his arms on the table and resting his head on them.

" _Harry!_ " Sharp exasperation this time, but at least Severus didn't attempt to grab him again.

Distraction, that was what Severus needed. "I didn't notice anything," Harry answered the original question. "Nothing out of the ordinary, at least. Just boring hallway, too many Aurors, and you." He paused, but Severus didn't take the opportunity to comment. "Then I felt a wave of magic coming from behind me. Dark magic. I knew you couldn't raise a strong enough shield without your wand, so I decided to get you out of the line of fire."

"Not stopping to think that one or two of those Aurors could have shielded me." Severus snorted. "You've already saved the world. Don't you think it's time to relinquish that saviour complex?"

Anger and resentment burned through Harry. Face flushed, he kept his eyes averted. "Shouldn't you be grateful for that _saviour_ complex? After all, it's why you and so many others are still alive _and_ out of jail little more than a year after the battle."

"Ah yes, how could I forget about that? Does your hopeless campaign have a name yet? Something memorable like Save Our Slytherins, perhaps?"

"Hardly hopeless if it's working." Harry aimed a quick, blistering glare at the sweep of black hair and bit of nose that filled the small section of centre vision remaining in his left eye, then lowered his gaze to Severus' chest. "The solicitors and testimony from the witnesses Hermione and I organised have kept you and all of our schoolmates out of Azkaban so far. Malfoy's the only one left, and he _will_ go free after his trial."

A long fingered hand rose and swept upward, flickering in and out of Harry's field of vision. He imagined Severus pinching the bridge of his nose as he had done so often when they'd clashed at Hogwarts.

A loud exhale, and then Severus said, "You haven't succeeded yet."

How was he supposed to reply to that, Harry wondered. Better to say nothing at all. He looked down, tried to read the words someone had etched into the table. But there were too many dark grey blotches and, he noticed with despair, another place, where he had once been able to see clearly, was starting to distort. He slammed a hand down on the carving. The sharp agony of a splinter slicing into his palm was almost a relief. The letters were there, even if he couldn't see them.

"Potter!"

"What do you _want_ from me?" Harry gritted out. _Again with his fucking surname._ He clenched his hand, driving the splinter in a little deeper.

Boot heels clacked against the bare stone, and then Severus was beside him. "What I want—"

A loud buzz from above the door shut Severus up.

Arthur spoke again. "Harry, Severus, sorry to interrupt, I've just been asked to give you a quick update. We've determined what happened and... erm... found the ones responsible, but there's... well, there's another problem. The... uh—" the whispers in the background were too low for Harry to make out over the background noise. "—curse, we still haven't quite worked out how to neutralise it."

"Neutralise which curse and how?" Severus spun around, robes billowing, causing the thick black cloth to brush across Harry's face, shoulder, and arm. He waved it away, resisting the urge to grab on and wrap himself in it.

"Well, you see, that's the thing... apparently the corridor isn't safe for anyone who isn't carrying an enhanced ward amulet to protect them against the... erm... curse."

"You don't know which curse it is, do you?" Severus barked a harsh, scraping laugh.

A woman, who was just a bit too bright and too young, said, "That's not quite accurate, Professor Snape. We've identified the basic spell that was used. We just need a little more time to adjust the counter-curse to counteract a modifier added by the caster."

"Miss—" a fractional hesitation that Harry was sure no one else caught "—Fawcett, once of Ravenclaw, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, Professor."

 _Bloody show off_. Harry rolled his eyes. As if anyone cares that you can identify a student who graduated a mere two years ago. He pushed back his chair, deliberately making as much racket as possible to interrupt the conversation. He raised his voice as he got to his feet, speaking just a little louder than normal, "We don't care what you're doing. We only care how much longer you're going to take to get us out of here."

"Oh," Miss Fawcett said. "Well, I'm not sure."

"Why don't you just come on down here and bring us a couple of those amulets?" Harry asked, not quite sure how he wanted her to answer that question.

She responded, "If only it were that simple. Unfortunately, the entire floor's on lockdown until the all-clear is given. You wouldn't want us to put you in danger, would you?"

Severus made an odd growling noise and muttered, "Imbeciles."

"Still, not too much longer, we promise, Harry, Severus." Arthur used his soothing Daddy Weasley tone, the one that was so bloody caring that it made Harry want to break something.

"Just hurry up, all right?" Harry snapped. "We've got better things to do with our day than sit around here on our arses."

Harry tuned out the blah blah of Arthur's reassurances. They weren't worth the spells being used to project them. Instead, he stood there, clenching and unclenching his fist, digging a finger into the wound, using the pain from the splinter to distract himself from the need to pace, to lash out, to punish Severus for the mess that Harry had got them into. He was so tired of feeling vulnerable.

He stepped backwards, putting a hand out behind him. When he reached the wall, he slid down. The floor held no dangers if he was sitting on it.

~*~

An hour passed. Then another.

Harry had dozed off and jerked awake with the dropping of his head more times than he could count.

Severus had paced, and sat down, then paced again. He'd had one or two or maybe six arguments with Arthur and whoever else was on the wizarding tannoy with him.

Nothing had changed. They were still working on getting them out of there. The floor was still on lockdown. The hallway was still curse-ridden. It still wasn't going to be too much longer.

A sharp pop and the scent of roast chicken filled the room.

"Apparently," drawled Severus, "we are merely to be bored to death, not starved."

"Ministry canteen food." Harry shrugged. "It's mostly safe to eat if you're not too particular about the taste."

"Some of us have never had the luxury of being that particular."

"So eat," Harry said. "Put a warming charm on the leftovers, if you don't mind. In case I'm hungry later."

Leaning his head back, tipping it up so he could look at the ceiling, at the light that came from everywhere and nowhere. Left eye closed, right eye open, then right eye closed and left eye open. Harry indulged himself in the ritual of checking out how much vision he had left. How much had been lost to the dull grey shimmer of scarring. Which sections were starting to distort as the curse continued to wreak havoc on his eyesight. Hermione called it morbid, but keeping track of the damage made him feel a little bit less helpless, helped him hold on to the resentment and anger that kept him putting one foot in front of the other and not succumbing to despair.

Absorbed in his task, he didn't realise Severus had moved until something flashed across his vision. Instinctively, Harry flung out his hand in self-protection. The intruding object went flying across the room to shatter against the opposite wall.

"Potter!"

His surname _again_ , this time transformed into a curse in Severus' mouth. And, suddenly, Harry couldn't take any more. With the repetition of that one word, his faint hope of starting something with the other man disintegrated; disappointment tasting like the ashes of a failed Incendio. He pushed Severus away and sent him sprawling against the table in a clatter of noise.

Harry scrambled to his feet, heading for the door, crunching fragments of pottery underfoot. A squawk and a buzz came from overhead. Tired of platitudes, he ripped his wand from its hidden pocket and cast a few spells to temporarily block their monitoring.

"What did you do?" Severus grabbed him from behind, spinning him around and shoving him against the wall. The back of Harry's head met unyielding stone. A sharp pain spiked through his skull.

 _Here we go again_ , he thought. Because the last time Severus had tossed him against a wall had been in sixth year, when his then-Professor had completely and utterly rejected him. _Not now, Potter,_ Severus had snarled when he'd approached him after a DADA class. _Not with an underage student. And certainly not with you._

"You fucking son of a bitch," Harry spat. "Does it get you off? Smashing me into walls?"

"Still the same, aren't you, Potter? An arrogant, self-centred, insufferable—"

"Brat?" Harry cut off the familiar tirade. "Isn't that how you always end it? Or am I just like my father this time? A man who died when I was a baby and who I don't remember at all." He tried to push away, get some relief from the grip that was twisting his robe into a choking tightness. "Do us both a favour, _Snape_ , use those brains you brag about so much and come up with something new."

Severus made a strange noise — a strangled snarling sob — and thrust a leg between Harry's, pinning him into place. His free hand grasped Harry's chin, holding his head with bruising force, resisting Harry's attempts to turn away.

"Do. Not. Close. Your. Eyes." An unidentifiable emotion laced Severus' voice.

Defiant, defeated, Harry blinked slowly then opened his eyes wide and stared at the patchy, distorted image that was all he could make out of Severus' face at such short range. He knew what the other man was seeing, even though he hadn't been able to see much of it himself for a couple of months — the dull grey-white lines and spots that ran through the pupil and iris of both eyes like the craquelure of an old painting. The always expanding, uncontrollable network of curse damage that would continue to eat away at his visual field until there was nothing left but darkness.

"Oh, Harry." Words whispered on a breath that sent shivers of resentment down Harry's spine.

"Don't you dare feel sorry for me."

Severus snorted, even as his hand gentled against Harry's chin. "Pity? From me? Surely you jest."

Relief loosened the tension in Harry's muscles so completely that he would have fallen if Severus hadn't been holding him up. Fighting the laughter that was trying to bubble up, he seized the heavy black wool covering Severus' arms. "I should have—" he hiccoughed a chuckle "—known you'd be different."

The hand released Harry's face, allowing his head to fall forward. Severus sucked in a hissing breath. "Give me your wand."

"What?"

A cautious touch to the back of Harry's skull sent an ache through his head. "I can heal this for you, if you trust me with your wand."

"Course. Yeah." Harry fumbled a bit, but managed to slide his wand into Severus' hand without dropping it.

Murmured healing spells eased the pain in Harry's head down to a vague twinge and removed the splinter from his palm. The low timbre of Severus' voice ran down Harry's spine like silk, reminding him why this man — this apparently unapproachable, uninterested, unattractive man — made him feel and want more deeply than anyone else he'd ever known. This man who could give him a raging hard-on with a few whispered words.

When Severus released him and stepped back, Harry realised just how shaky he felt and how much he didn't want Severus to see how turned on he was. Flattening his palms against the wall, he slid back down to the floor. He brought his knees up and rested his elbows on them, supporting his head in his cupped left hand. "Thanks, I... I appreciate... and I, you know, don't expect..."

"Surely by now you have learnt to keep your expectations in line with reality."

Harry flipped two fingers in Severus' direction. Hope surged back to painful life with the realisation that whatever was changing between them wasn't splitting them further apart.

"Rude brat." Severus huffed. But then he joined Harry on the floor, stretching out his legs and — Harry was pretty sure — crossing them at the ankle. Harry's wand was placed against the fingers of his right hand. He automatically grasped the wooden handle.

After a brief silence, Severus asked, "The spells?"

"To give us some privacy. I'm sick and tired of everyone thinking I need watching all the time. I'm losing my sight, not the ability to take care of myself."

The humming sound was non-committal, but encouraging. Harry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it, then continued. "I thought I'd managed to get away from it when I moved out of the Burrow and into the hostel with the others a few weeks ago. Ron and Hermione thought it was a great idea, but Molly—" he shook his head "—you'd think I was taking on Voldemort the Second."

Severus snorted. "Over-protective does not begin to describe that woman if she thinks any of her chicks are being threatened."

"She's only just starting to talk to me again." _As are you_ , Harry thought. He lifted his head and rotated his wand this way and that, watching the tip appear and then disappear behind grey patches, trying to understand what Severus was trying to say. The man had never learnt the art of plain speaking and, after the mess that had been his sixth year, Harry was no longer sure if he was one of those people Severus counted on understanding him or those he wanted to deceive.

On the other hand, what did he have to lose? The worst possible outcome was that Severus rejected him again. And that would leave them exactly where they were now. Harry swallowed down the thick lump in his throat.

"You were my student, Harry."

"What?" Almost dropping his wand, not completely certain that he had understood the meaning behind this apparent non-sequitur, Harry turned and tilted his head just enough to bring pale skin, the wing of a single eyebrow, and a second of one dark eye into focus. He fucking _missed_ being able to see facial expressions.

Severus didn't explain, didn't say another word. He simply sat there, face turned towards Harry, waiting.

Another swallow dissolved the lump in Harry's throat. Somehow he knew it was now or never. Gathering the remnants of his courage, he shifted closer until their bodies touched. Leant slightly sideways, his left shoulder rested against Severus' right arm. Leg stretched out to run parallel with Severus' leg, their thighs and calves pressed together.

Severus remained silent, answering the unspoken question by raising his right arm and sliding it across Harry's shoulders, drawing him close. And that was answer enough. Harry snuggled deeper into the comfort of the solid chest, the soft scratch of black wool, slipped his left hand behind Severus' waist and held on. Surrounded by both of Severus' arms, he was on the verge of allowing himself to relax when he remembered. "Hold on to my wand, just in case? I'd hate to hex the wrong person."

"I'll keep us safe."

"My hero," Harry murmured, smiling when Severus snorted.

Eyes closed, drifting in a haze of not-quite-sleep, head tucked into Severus' collarbone, Severus' nose buried in his hair, Harry wanted to throw Arthur and everyone else back out of the room when they burst through the door to 'rescue' them.

Apparently retaining more sense than Harry, Severus refrained from hexing anyone. He rose gracefully to his feet, drawing Harry up with him. Before Harry could so much as protest, his wand was back in his hand and Arthur was dragging him over to the table. Harry blinked and squinted, trying without success to make sure Severus was safe with the Aurors.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Arthur asked. "He had your—"

"I'm fine," Harry interrupted, "for a blind man who's been locked in an empty room for hours. It's a good thing I had enough sense to give Severus my wand. At least he could tell if the people blowing through the door needed to be hexed or thanked."

"We would never have..."

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" Harry shoved his wand back in its holster. "Fuck, Arthur. I could have _hexed_ you."

"But you didn't." Severus' voice soothed Harry's ragged nerves almost as much as knowing that the man was no longer being held apart by the Aurors. "However, Arthur, an explanation would go a long way to reconciling us with the necessity for today's ordeal."

"I made sure to get authorisation to do just that before coming in here," Arthur replied, a smile in his voice.

"Did you catch them?" Harry asked. "Were they trying to stop Malfoy's trial?"

"I wish it were that simple," said the Auror who joined them without introducing himself. "Turns out some Unspeakables made a small miscalculation which caused a cursed object to explode, flooding some of the hallways and unprotected rooms on Levels 9 and 10 with a mutated variant of the original curse."

"Creating the equivalent of a dark magic bomb," Severus mused. "The implications are fascinating. Do you know the dimensions of the blast radius?"

After that, the explanation moved into a technical discussion. Not even hearing Severus talk about penetrative impact managed to keep Harry's interest. Instead, he rested his arse on the edge of the table, eyes half-closed, and let himself drift on the rise and fall of Severus' voice and the occasional waft of scent when a gesture swung Severus' sleeve in his direction.

A touch on his shoulder and the click of boot heels on the stone floor startled him out of his reverie.

Severus leant down, hair falling forward to fill Harry's peripheral vision, breath shivering across Harry's ear. "Until later."

By the time Harry had gathered his wits to respond, Severus was at the door. A streak of black in a sea of red Aurors. "Yes," Harry said and then, feeling awkward, as if everything was undecided between them, "Wait."

There was no response, but Harry could see Severus' robes billow in a black blur as he spun around. _I wanted to kiss you_ , Harry thought. Unable to say that aloud, surrounded as they were, he raised his fingers to his lips.

"But of course," Severus replied. And then he was gone in a flurry of black and red.

~*~

 _One week later..._

Standing in the hallway of the manor they'd dubbed the Black Hostel, Harry swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. Everyone else was in the front room. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Lavender, sixteen other teenagers who would be living here instead of Azkaban, and Severus. The other man had moved in two days earlier. Harry still couldn't believe it had taken the Ministry that long to process the paperwork required to release Severus and Malfoy.

Harry had successfully avoided any meeting or meal that included Severus until now. This would be the first time that Harry would spend time in the same room as Severus since they'd been trapped together, and he was more nervous about that than getting through this meeting. He hadn't been able to come up with a single reason why the terminally independent Severus would want to burden himself with a blind man. This time, Harry was determined, he would put Severus' needs first and let his own fall by the wayside.

A sudden swell of noise made Harry jump, forcing him to lift his head and stop staring at his hands. The door to the front room was open and someone was coming towards him. He blinked and squinted at the silhouette, backlit by bright sunshine, but the darkened hall didn't give him enough light to identify the person.

"There you are," Hermione said, taking his arm. "We were beginning to wonder if you were lost."

"Not in this house." Harry tried to pull free of Hermione's grasp. "I don't need help around here."

Shutting the door behind her, Hermione moved closer to him. Her voice was low but forceful. "Honestly, Harry, I know you can get around by yourself. I expect nothing less.. Stop assuming that we're all trying to undermine your independence." She sighed and moved her grip down to clasp his hand. "But, there's a room full of people in there. Sprawled all over the floor and stretching their legs out. I didn't think you wanted to start things off by tripping over someone."

"Erm, yeah, I suppose."

"And if you're worried about Snape, don't. He's leaning against a wall, glowering at anyone who so much as looks at him. You'd think it would kill the man to admit that he's human."

"It doesn't... there's nothing, really."

"Even Ron's figured it out by now." He could hear the smile in her voice as she squeezed his hand in an attempt at reassurance. "Come on, let's just go in there and get this meeting started."

That sick feeling rose again. Harry sighed. "I don't understand why you even need me in there. You and Severus should have it all down by now."

"Do we have to go through this again, Harry? I thought we'd all agreed that, since you were the one who made this happen, you should be the one to set the stage for us. They all trust you."

 _In whose dreams_ , Harry wondered. Then, she said, "Please" and he knew he'd lost the argument yet again.

One deep breath and he was as ready as he'd ever be. He let go of her hand and took hold of her arm. "All right. Just make sure my seat doesn't face the sun."

After the dim hallway, the brightness of the front room left him grateful that Hermione had more sense than he did. He blinked his watering eyes and wiped away the moisture, but still couldn't see much more than shadows and bright smears. He'd just have to wait however long it took for his eyes to adjust before what was left of his sight returned.

He stayed a half step behind Hermione as they moved slowly through the room. The only reason he didn't feel like a prat on parade was Hermione's constant ordering of people to get out of their way. At least once, if the yelp was anything to go by, she'd kicked someone. It wasn't that long before he was sitting in a chair, with the window behind him, and a bunch of people he couldn't see in front of him.

"Thought you might want some tea," Lavender said, pushing a warm mug into his hand.

"Thanks," Harry murmured, wrapping both hands around it.

"If you need anything else," she squeezed his shoulder, "I'll be just over there."

Resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her, he sipped his tea and settled back in his chair to wait. Almost everyone seemed to be talking at once. Their voices merged into a susurration of sound that made it impossible for him to identify who was saying what. Although, his and Severus' names were mentioned often.

After a couple of minutes, when the whispering wasn't showing any signs of stopping, the unmistakeable sound of Severus clearing his throat came from behind Harry, setting his heart pounding.

After Severus cleared his throat a second time, the immediate, tense silence made Harry snort with amusement. "Glad I'm not the only one he's got well-trained."

Laughter and noises of agreement brought a release of tension and a more relaxed silence.

"So," Harry started, resting his mug on his thigh and dragging his free hand through his hair, "I guess you're wondering why a bunch of Gryffindors worked so hard to get you out of jail and how big the catch is going to be, yeah?"

"You could say that." Malfoy's familiar drawl came from Harry's left.

"I just did." Harry grinned in Malfoy's direction. "Basically, we started with the assumption that you were given about as much choice about your role in the war as I was about mine. And," he raised his voice to be heard over the muttering, "I, for one, don't want to know if we were wrong about that."

More talking. More tea. Merlin, was he grateful that Lavender had given it to him.

"It's very simple," Harry continued. "To keep your arses out of prison, you're required to stay here for anywhere between a year and five years. If you're not sure what your term is, check with Hermione or Severus. Don't depend on me to remember the details, or you'll find yourselves in deep trouble."

There were a few giggles and then someone asked, "What's the catch, then? What do we have to do while we're serving out our sentences with you?"

Harry tilted his head and squinted at the figure he thought had spoken but, even though his eyes had mostly adjusted to the light, he couldn't make out enough details to identify her. Trying not to take his frustration out on the speaker, Harry did his best to sound amused. "One catch is that I like to know who I'm talking to. And, since I can't see for shit these days, that means you have to tell me who you are. At least until we've talked enough that I can recognise your voice."

"Sorry." The woman sounded abashed. "It's Pansy... Parkinson."

"Thanks, Pansy." Harry smiled. "There are only two other rules I care about. The first is personal. You can be as messy in your room as you like, but the public areas have to stay neat and tidy. Before you leave a room, put the furniture back where it belongs and pick your stuff up off the floor."

"We're hardly house elves." Male, not Malfoy or anyone else he knew, was the best Harry could do with that voice.

"Don't you know—" Hermione started to say.

But Severus cut in smoothly, "You would prefer to make the front pages of the _Prophet_ as The Inconsiderate Imbecile Who Tripped The Chosen One And Sent Him To St. Mungo's?"

Someone muttered, "What the hell?"

"He just said he couldn't see for shit. I know your skull is thick, but it's only been a minute or two," Ron replied. Then, Harry heard the sound of a hand slapping the back of a head followed by Malfoy saying, "Idiot."

Severus added, "If you find that explanation insufficient, try using your admittedly inferior research skills and read the back issues of our local rag."

Wanting to get the hell away from discussions of his eyesight, Harry cut across the next question and said, "The second is a condition of your release imposed by the Wizengamot. You're expected to study for and take your NEWTs or, if you're done with school, to work with Severus and lay the groundwork for an apprenticeship or other job."

"So that's why Professor Snape is here," Pansy said, sounding relieved.

"Apparently, for _my sins_ , the Wizengamot sentenced me to live with a horde of half-civilised teenagers and to be held responsible for their actions," Severus said, with barely a sneer. "Like all democracies, this one has rules and I shall enforce them. Those of you who were once in Slytherin know what this means. The rest of you shall learn."

"Fucking 'ell," Ron groaned.

"Precisely," Severus responded.

Hermione sighed. "Honestly, Ron, you'd think we hadn't discussed this."

"Over and over and over again," Ron reassured her.

Everyone laughed again and Harry relaxed. Until a low, dark chuckle came from behind him, giving him goose bumps, a dry mouth, and... fucking hell was right, he decided as he crossed his legs and slouched sideways in an attempt to hide what that chuckle did to him. He didn't bother trying to contribute anything to the discussion of the house rules.

~*~

As soon as the meeting ended, Harry started moving. He wanted to make it back to his bedroom before _anyone_ caught up with him. The room was bright enough that he was able to avoid walking into furniture or people. He dragged his feet, hoping to kick objects and limbs out of his way instead of falling over them.

Just before he reached the door, a hand fell on his shoulder; a familiar, long-fingered hand that radiated warmth. "Harry," Severus murmured in his ear. "I require your assistance to resolve a problem with my room."

"Lav... Lavender would be the person... you should talk to her. Or Ron," Harry stuttered. He tried to take a step forward, to get away, but Severus tightened his grip.

"I hardly think either of them could solve this particular problem." Severus tucked Harry's hand in the crook of his elbow and began guiding him out of the room. "It would be better if I explained upstairs."

Thoughts tumbling over each other, unable to come up with a way to avoid this, Harry followed without comment until they reached the hallway. Sight stolen by the step into semi-darkness, he cursed and tightened his grip on Severus' arm.

Severus paused. "Is something wrong?"

"Just get me out of here."

"Your wish is my command."

"I should be so lucky," Harry snickered. "Now, can you move, please?"

The curtains were drawn in Severus' room and a lamp shone on the bedside table. Harry pulled free from Severus and leant against the wall next to the door. He crossed his arms over his chest, and commented, "I don't _see_ any problem with this room at all."

Halfway between the four poster bed and the door, Severus turned back to Harry and said, "Perhaps you are not looking closely enough."

This time Harry's laugh was bitter. "Wouldn't make the least bit of difference, I promise you."

"There are other ways to look than with your eyes."

"Try losing your sight and then talk to me about it." Harry straightened up. "There's clearly nothing wrong with this room. So, if that's all, I have things to do."

"You can't avoid me forever." Severus stepped closer and trailed a finger down Harry's cheek.

An ache swept through Harry and clutched at something in his chest. Closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep, shuddering breath, he decided that honesty was the only thing he had to offer. "I can't see well enough to avoid anyone. You know that. And it's going to keep getting worse until I can't see anything at all."

"Your point?"

Severus sounded so noncommittal; his voice completely expressionless. Chewing on his lower lip, Harry tilted his head and located part of one black eye and the arched eyebrow above it. The man was waiting for him, that much was clear. He raked a hand through his already messy hair and said, "I'm being realistic. I'm not going to get better. There's no magic cure; no counter-curse, or potion. Simply a slow slide into complete darkness."

When Severus remained silent, Harry continued, "There'll be things to help me. Ollivander's already working on what he calls a not-wand, so I can use certain assistance charms without having to point a wand at people." His laugh was harsh. "For some reason, they seem to get nervous when I do that. Can't imagine why, can you?"

"Harry."

"No. Let's be honest, all right? You made it clear to anyone and everyone during those months in the infirmary that you don't have any patience for dependent brats who don't have the decency to take care of their own needs. I won't subject either of us to that." Harry crossed his arms over his chest again, holding tightly on to his biceps, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry about the day at the Ministry. I know now that I didn't do either of us any favours."

" _Enough_ ," Severus snarled. One of his hands slashed upward, flickering through Harry's vision and dragging his head up with it. "Do I have a say in this? Or are you yet another person in my life who hands decisions down from on high and expects me to obey blindly?"

"Don't twist my words. That's not what I meant and you know it." Harry's guilt and misery at making Severus unhappy coiled into anger. He was trying to _prevent_ that from happening, damn it.

"I know nothing of the kind." Severus exhaled loudly. His hand rose, the sleeve of his black robe swaying in and out of the grey patches until rising dizziness forced Harry to look away. For a brief moment there was silence, and then Severus' hand cupped Harry's cheek. Tone soft, he said, "You are, without a doubt, one of the most wilful, disobedient, self-sufficient, courageous students I have ever had the misfortune to teach. Even half-blind, you leapt into danger in a misguided attempt to save me. What on earth gives you the idea that you know how to be dependent?"

Harry glared at Severus, anger draining away and leaving him nothing but the fear. When he could speak again, he whispered, "What do you want from me?"

"Honesty," Severus said. "Nothing more and absolutely nothing less. Accomplish everything within your abilities, but don't hesitate to ask for help when you require it."

"Oh, that's all is it? Should be easy, yeah?"

"But of course," Severus sneered, the familiar tone easing the constriction in Harry's chest. "After we've fought and bickered and yelled and shouted and generally made everyone else in the house miserable."

"They're going to hate us."

"No, they won't. Although they may well be sick and tired of us by the time we're done."

"So...." Harry trailed off, not knowing what to say or do. Leave or stay? The choice seemed impossible.

But then Severus pulled him into a tight embrace and, for once, he was relieved to have the decision made for him. Fingers tipped his chin up. Thin lips descended on his. More turned on than he'd ever been in his life, Harry slid his arms around Severus' neck and opened his mouth. Eyes closing of their own accord, lost in the heat and the aching need, Harry held on tight. He didn't need to see for this.

The swooping sensation as Severus picked him up surprised Harry into laughter. He was unceremoniously dropped on the mattress, laughing even harder as he bounced.

"Wand," Severus demanded.

Harry pulled the length of wood from the thin pocket Lavender had added along the right seam of his jeans and held it out. He flopped onto his back as soon as he heard Severus placing it on the bedside table, then opening and closing a drawer. "Join me?"

"That was the plan, yes."

"And a lovely plan... oh... it is," Harry moaned as Severus slipped a leg between his thighs, his knee placing light pressure on Harry's balls. Then, with a whispered charm, they were naked. Lips, tongue and teeth kissed, nipped, licked and suckled Harry's nipples and belly button, chest and stomach in no pattern that Harry could decipher. Hands and nails stroking, scratching, Harry caressed every part of Severus he could reach.

A buck of his hips rubbed their hard cocks together, but it was miles from being enough. "Fuck me."

"Now?"

"No, tomorrow. You git."

Severus' wonderful, comforting weight lifted away. Harry whined the loss, until hands smoothed the skin of his pelvis, pressed a circle around his cock and balls, then slipped down into his cleft. Needy, wanting, his legs fell apart.

"Yes," he hissed when the first, lubed finger entered him. _Long, thin... perfect_ , he thought as he tried to open further, wider. He stretched his hands out, fingers flexing with the craving to touch, but Severus was too far away.

By the time Severus judged him ready, Harry was begging, writhing, fighting the urge to grasp his cock and ease the ache himself.

Thick, blunt hardness nudged Harry's arse. Teasing. Tempting. Harsh panting the only indication of how much the restraint was costing Severus. Unwilling, unable to wait, to enjoy the slow burn, Harry wrapped his legs around Severus' hips, dug his heels into Severus' arse, and pulled forward.

"As I said," Severus growled. "Wilful."

"You wouldn't... have me... any other way," Harry gasped. "Now fuck me. Hard. I want... to... feel you."

And then Severus was back, holding himself so that Harry's cock was trapped between them. Harry's hips rose and fell. Meeting him stroke for hard, fast stroke. So perfect. So good. Harry held on tight. One hand buried in the long, black hair. His own head arched back over the pillows, neck and shoulder open to Severus' suckling, kissing mouth.

Babbling words, syllables, sounds, Harry's hips rose one last time and he moaned out his shuddering, pulsing release. Scraped his nails down Severus' back, and then Severus thrust in harder, deeper, and came with a low growl.

Later, after they'd cleaned up and crawled between the sheets, after Harry had nuzzled the pair of scarred dents on Severus' neck, and mapped Severus' face with his fingertips, he remembered. "So that problem with this room, was it just an excuse to get me up here?"

Severus chuckled and rolled onto his side, head propped on one hand. "Not as such."

"Hmmm...?" Able to see the corner of Severus' mouth twitch and curl into an almost-smile, Harry smiled back.

"Which means," Severus purred, tracing the orbits of Harry's eyes with a finger, "that the problem was resolved when you joined me in here."

**Author's Note:**

> HP Tarot fest - cards and Interpretations. The cards were drawn from the [Lo Scarabeo deck](http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/lo-scarabeo/). Interpretations are from the deck book and other sources.
> 
> Prompts:  
> 6 of Swords: perspective - moving away from past troubles, beginning of a new phase after a time of upheaval, the calm after the storm.
> 
> Death: conclusion (or new beginning), a destruction of old circumstances and patterns, new life following disintegration.
> 
> Justice: balance, seeking justice, resolving a situation, creating a balance of power and of emotional reactions to the situation.
> 
> Pairing:  
> 5 of Wands: confrontation, change, adaptation, growth.


End file.
